


Fowl Games

by Pureblood_Muggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Seer Luna Lovegood, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureblood_Muggle/pseuds/Pureblood_Muggle
Summary: Hermione never believed in Divination - and she wasn't going to start now, just because Luna *saw* something.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 30
Kudos: 151
Collections: DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020





	Fowl Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuxLouise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxLouise/gifts).



> Written for the DFW Birthday GOGO 2020 Fest on FB for the lovely LuxLouise! Her prompt asked, amongst others, for 'Soulmates' and so here we are! I do hope you will enjoy my humble offerings!
> 
> I had help from Lenina who did a fantastic Beta-job on this! Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own :) 
> 
> As ever, this work is not intended to be infringing on copyrights. We all know who these characters belong to. I just borrowed them for a bit of fun :)

The ill-timed sip of red wine shot straight out of Hermione’s nose as Luna announced to all and sundry that she’d _Seen_ Hermione’s future lover. Hermione spluttered and pinched against the burning in her nose as she tried to regain a little bit of dignity amidst the laughter around her.

Apparently, it had happened while they’d held hands at Ginny’s Mother Blessing Ceremony only minutes earlier. When Hermione had agreed to show up to shower Ginny with love and positive energy for her approaching birth, she had done so reluctantly, not quite sure how such things should help more than simply letting nature take its course. 

Yet, here she was. Hermione dabbed her face and shirt with a napkin and cleared her throat several times before her voice - hoarse after coughing - obeyed again. “What on Earth are you talking about, Luna?”

Luna smiled serenely at Hermione, her wide, blue eyes showing nothing but honest conviction. “It’s just something I can do,” she shrugged. “Sometimes, when I touch people and they’re very emotional, I get flashes of their future love. Some say, their Soulmate.”

“Soulmates? Really?” Hermione chuckled. “Soulmates don’t exist outside of trashy novels, Luna.”

“Oh, no, they’re quite real. Not very common, but real nonetheless. Where do you think the stories in those novels originate from?” Luna asked with a smile.

“Yes, I ‘ave ‘eard about it, too. My Maman also theenks Bill and I were destined.” 

Hermione shot a disbelieving look at Fleur, then turned back to Luna. “So, you are saying you actually saw who I’ll be with?” Hermione tried really hard not to snort. 

“Oh no. It doesn’t work that way. It’s… a feeling.”

“A feeling,” Hermione deadpanned. “I suppose it was all pink and sweet?” Next to her, she noticed, Ginny, Angelina, Fleur, and Catharine - a former Harpie’s teammate Ginny had become close to - barely contained their giggles. 

Luna shook her head. “Give me your hand again and I’ll explain more.” Hermione hesitated before indulging her long-time friend and placing her left hand in Luna’s with an ill-concealed roll of her eyes. She considered Divination an Art of Quackery at best. Something in Luna’s voice though, made her wary of rejecting her outright. 

“Think of love, Hermione,” she prompted. “Love in all aspects. Think of the feeling you want to experience. The emotions. Think of the romance, the flirting…,” Luna drifted off, closing her eyes. “Yes,” she continued, bringing distinct colour into Hermione’s already flushed cheeks, “that’s it, even the sex and all your wants.”

On instinct, Hermione wanted to pull her hand free, though Luna’s grip was deceptively strong. Unable to free herself without causing a scene and a likely falling out, she endured the next ten minutes of predictions about a mysterious stranger. 

* * *

Slightly sleep-deprived, Hermione hurried along the long corridor that led to her new office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the next morning. Just her luck to be delayed not even a full week into her new position. 

Clutching her files tighter to her, she wished she could maintain her pace while drinking from her Muggle takeaway coffee cup. With a longing sigh, she rounded the final corner and came to an abrupt halt as she barreled into someone just exiting the large wooden double doors to the Department’s foyer.

A loud curse that echoed her own turned the air blue around them as her hot, black coffee scalded both her and the man she’d literally run into.

“Can’t you look where you’re going?” he barked while she quickly bent to pick up the fallen paper cup.

“I was in a hurry. I didn’t do this on purpose!” she all but snarled back, all notions of apologies dying on her lips at his surly tone. She straightened and looked up. “Malfoy?”

“Granger,” he replied with an arched brow. “Should’ve known that was you. You always had a violent streak in you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Hermione knew she was rude but couldn’t stop herself. Who did he think he was, the arrogant toe-rag! Some people just never changed, she thought viciously - then blinked when she realised that no, Malfoy had changed. At least - she let her eyes flick down and back up - his looks had. He’d _grown up_ as Ginny would say. 

Malfoy, meanwhile, pulled his wand and nonchalantly removed all traces of coffee from both their persons. His eyes met hers and a knowing smirk appeared on his face. Unable to tear her eyes away, she was still staring when he casually leaned in, his breath hot in her ear. “Right hook. Third year, Granger.”

Before she could react to _that_ , he’d left her standing like a fool and confidently strode away, even as a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. A breathy, “Oh,” escaped her treacherous mouth, followed by an irritated huff - there was _no_ way her body was attracted to _him._ She wouldn’t allow it.

* * *

What Hermione really wanted was to unwind on her own couch with a good book and a hot cup of tea. Instead, she found herself sitting in Harry and Ginny’s kitchen for a delicious dinner - courtesy of the nearest Muggle pizza takeaway. 

“So, how are you finding your new job within the DMLE?” Harry asked before taking a swig from his bottle of beer.

Hermione finished chewing, swallowed, and said, “It’s good. Definitely a challenge but it feels right. I’m finally able to make a real difference.”

“No better woman,” he grinned at her. “Just - remember how much you love it, yeah?”

“Why?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She also didn’t miss the glance he shared with Ginny. “Harry James Potter, what is going on?”

“At our morning briefing, we have been informed that an outside wizard is coming in to do some consultancy work. Mainly, with you, apparently, though he’ll be in and out of our end also.”

“Why do you sound so irritated with that? It’s a normal thing, no? I mean, I guess I expected this. It was said at my initial interview.”

“And you’re okay with him?”

“Of course,” Hermione shrugged. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

“I would’ve expected a bigger reaction,” Ginny said with a frown while she rubbed her rounded belly. “I mean, not like Ron when he found out that Malfoy will be working with you, but-”

“Malfoy?” Hermione all but shouted, her eyes turning round. “No!”

“Didn’t you just tell us you knew?” Ginny asked.

“No. Yes, but not him? Surely you’re mista-,” she broke off, a look of horror on her face. “The coffee,” she whispered.

“What?” both Harry and Ginny asked. 

“I ran into Malfoy this morning. It makes so much sense now.”

“Yeah, he left just before you came in. Thought you missed the git.”

Hermione groaned. “No, I didn’t miss him at all. I _literally_ ran into him. Spilt my whole coffee between us.” She dropped the slice of pizza onto her plate and hid her face behind her hands. “And again at lunch. I swear the universe has sick and twisted humour.”

Ginny giggled. “Don’t tell me you poured something else over him for lunch!”

“Oh. No, we met in one of the lifts. _That_ , by the way, also malfunctioned. Today really wasn’t my day.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“It stopped between floors. Not for long, just a couple of minutes but they were the longest minutes of my life. I really thought I’d be stuck there with Malfoy.”

“Horrifying thought, that,” Harry said. 

Ginny gaped, eyes wide and waving her hands around. Her mouth opened and closed yet no sound came out. Harry, alarmed, jumped to his feet and patted her back in case she was choking. She slapped him away.

“Soulmate!” Ginny eventually gasped. Harry and Hermione simply stared. “Luna! Don’t you remember?”

Hermione’s eyes closed, Luna’s words clear in her head:

_“I See certain things. You’ll meet but there is something dark about it. It feels hot and… and stuck, unable to leave a place.” For a moment, Luna’s voice became a little less dreamy as she added, “Maybe you’ll be kidnapped by a handsome stranger and brought to a hot country.”_

Hermione swallowed as she remembered spilling her hot, black coffee and being stuck in a lift with Malfoy. Was there anything to Luna’s waffling? Were they coincidences? Hermione was a practical, logical person, after all. Did she really want to interpret these things in Luna’s favour?

* * *

Hermione firmly dismissed those incidents as utter chance. If one really thought about it, she reasoned, they weren’t the same as Luna’s predictions at all. It was merely her own imagination bending facts in order to fit.

She was definitely _not_ thinking of Luna’s _Seeing_ as she walked into her office and found it in disarray. Copious sheets of parchment covered her whole - normally clear - desk and most of the floor.

“Morning, Granger,” Malfoy called out from behind her desk. He straightened to standing. Hermione ignored his greeting.

“What, in Merlin’s name, are you doing?” Her eyes moved from page to page. How would she even get to her desk through this sea of documentation?

“Reorganising.”

“You touched my filing?” She barely drew a breath before she added, “My _confidential_ filing?”

“I have clearance. How else did you think I got the password to the cabinet?” She watched with dawning horror as he rolled his eyes and drew his wand. A quick flick of his wrist made the parchment move to allow for a path to her desk.

Counting backwards from thirty, in French, she moved across the room unable to form an eloquent reply. Her hand inched towards her wand, a hex on the tip of her tongue. How _dare_ he. How utterly _dare_ he ride in on his high and mighty horse to undermine her work. She had a system in place, one that worked and had already proved to be exceptionally efficient. 

She’d show him who’s boss. He was here to _help_ , not to take over her job and - oh, she’d wipe the condescending look right off his face as soon as she’d found her voice again. 

Hermione seethed under her breath and wordlessly sent her bag and coat flying to the hooks on the back of her door where they landed with more force than necessary. She turned on the spot and dropped to her chair only to jump straight back up.

“What the hell?” she yelled, her hand flying to her now sticky backside, pulling a chocolate-coated doughnut off her cream trousers.

“Oh, well done, Granger, you just sat on my breakfast,” Malfoy bit out. He followed that statement by barking a laugh, his eyes on her bum. “Bit of a sticky situation, eh?”

Hermione’s wand emitted sparks and her teeth were in danger of being ground to dust. His arrogance and underhanded ways already angered her beyond reason. As if that weren’t enough, his words brought up new memories of Luna’s Merlin-forsaken predictions.

_“I don’t know why but something feels sticky. Slow, like molasses perhaps.”_

“No,” she gasped and staggered back, her eyes flying to his as he quickly reached out to steady her.

“Granger?” His voice sounded far away to her ears as awareness washed over her and all her focus landed on his fingers curled around her forearm. 

_Luna nodded sagely. “Yes, sticky. But also hot, like fire. Fever maybe. Or fireworks.” She paused and looked squarely at Hermione. “You aren’t ill, are you?”_

Fire. Heat. Fever. All of the above fit perfectly to describe the searing feeling that radiated from his fingers: up her arm, across her shoulder, engulfing her face.

“Granger?” he called again, his voice tinged with alarm. She knew she must appear crazed, unable to pull herself together. Her eyes lifted to see uncertainty in his gaze. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe as she remembered more.

_“You know, Hermione, it is truly odd.” Hermione snorted at that, wondering if Luna finally realised the obvious. “I don’t know why, but I can clearly sense two birds. Maybe owls are involved. Hmm.”_

_“Hermione, show her your birdmark!” Ginny suddenly shouted._

_“Birdmark?” Catharine asked. Hermione rolled her eyes._

_“It’s my birthmark, and Ginny thinks it looks like a bird. See?” Hermione used her free hand to pull the neck of her top down a little to reveal a mark on her clavicle._

_Angelina grinned widely. “You know, it is said that Soulmates share a mark.”_

“Hermione?” Her given name came softly from his lips and it jarred her. “Are you alright?” 

Hermione pulled her arm free and ran out of the office to the nearest loo. Once inside, she locked the door and braced herself on the sink, breathing shakily. This was a whole new level of ridiculousness. 

Hermione turned to see her bum in the full-length mirror on the other side of the small room and carefully aimed her wand to remove the sticky chocolate stain. Once clean, she went back to the mirror above the sink and opened the top two buttons of her blouse, revealing the little bird. She rubbed across it with her thumb. Incredible, she thought to herself, how some phantasmic ramblings could reduce her to an anxious mess. 

_Malfoy_ . Of all people, clearly _he_ wasn’t meant. It was like reading a horoscope, fitting events after the fact, come hell or high water. Just like, she thought, that time back at school when Lavender was convinced her pet’s death had been forecast, yet failed to realise the dates didn’t suit. 

Mindgames. Nothing more. She nodded to herself and took a deep breath before she resolutely returned to her office and the newest bane of her professional life.

* * *

Over the following weeks, Hermione managed to almost forget about Luna’s words. Almost. After the sticky start to their working relationship, she and Malfoy quickly fell into a routine. A second desk had appeared for him to work at and - begrudgingly - she admitted that his filing system did have advantages. The result was a hybrid compromise that improved efficiency on all fronts.

It irritated her just how nice Malfoy actually was. Holding doors, bringing that extra coffee, asking permission, and her opinion on a myriad of topics - some not strictly work-related. Twice they’d stayed after hours, neither realising the time, so invested were they in their discussion.

In short: Draco Malfoy was the perfect gentleman. It unsettled her that her image of him was being turned upside-down and - reluctantly- she came to respect him for the man he’d become. 

The bird, try as she might to forget about it, flew around her brain, an errand thought that wouldn’t be deterred. She frequently glanced at him throughout their workdays, mindful not to be caught lest he thought her ogling him. Not that she expected a mark to suddenly appear on his surprisingly easy on the eye features, and there was no way on Earth that would see her asking him outright. He’d only misinterpret that as interest in what lay underneath his expensive, tailored clothes and she didn’t have any - interest that was. 

Therefore, Hermione was glad it was finally Friday. Tonight, she’d be able to put it all out of her mind for the weekend. She had planned it all out already. First, she would relax in a bath, then read a book in front of the fire, a glass of something alcoholic in her hand. She was still smiling to herself as she sipped her coffee when she opened the large double doors to the DMLE, only to collide, again, with Malfoy. She swore violently.

“Granger, we have got to stop meeting this way,” he said, laughter in his voice. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Why would I spill my coffee on purpose?” she asked as she flicked her wand to clean up the mess. “I happen to like to actually drink it.”

“Maybe it’s a ruse to get me to buy you a new one?” He held the door open for her to go through. 

“I can buy my own coffee, Malfoy.” She rushed past him and heard his chuckles follow her.

“Of course you can. I’m sure you can also cook your own meal. Yet, there are restaurants out there only waiting for us to make an appearance.”

“With bated breath, I’m sure.” 

“Subtlety is lost on you, isn’t it?” 

Hermione continued on to her desk before replying, “I’m sure you’d think so. I’m also sure _you_ didn’t just, in a roundabout way, try to ask _me_ on a date.”

Malfoy casually leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, his eyes steadily on her. When he didn’t reply, she huffed, “Oh come on, Malfoy, we both know you’d never do that. Don’t for one second pretend that you’d honestly want to spend time with me outside of work.”

“Are we speaking honestly now?” He pushed off the door, closed it, and stalked over to her. “Good. Now, why wouldn't I want to spend time with an intelligent, beautiful witch outside of work? And, if I’m honest, I have a hard time coming up with other scenarios. Since day one, I’ve caught you staring at me. Like what you see, Granger?” Malfoy smirked at her. 

Hermione felt her face burn. “No,” she breathed. 

“No?” He arched an eyebrow, a slow grin creeping up his face. “Your mouth and your body language don’t seem to agree, Granger.” Malfoy put his forefinger under her chin and tipped her head up. Their eyes met and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. His eyes lowered to her mouth and he traced it with his thumb, continuing along her jaw, to her neck and across her collarbone.

Hermione swallowed against the lump in her throat, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Anywhere he touched, he left a trail of goosebumps and fire in his wake. She couldn’t pull her eyes from his, and her breath hitched when he closed the distance between them and claimed her mouth with his. 

A moan reached her ears and she had a frightening inkling that it was hers. One of her hands was in his hair, her other clutched the front of his robes, and she all but whimpered when he trailed kisses down her neck and fingered the collar of her top. Abruptly, he tore from her only to stare at her exposed skin. 

“Malfoy?” Hermione gasped, her breath coming in fast little pants. “Draco?” 

His eyes met hers, her given name a whisper on his lips. Carelessly, he removed his outer robes, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes never left hers as he unbuttoned his left cuff. He rolled it up and lifted his arm between them. 

Hermione stared. There, right above his very faded Dark Mark, was an exact replica of her own _birdmark_. “That’s impossible.” She touched it, mesmerised, a spark igniting on her finger. His arm twitched in response, goosebumps visibly breaking out, and her gaze travelled back up to meet his.

“Improbable,” he murmured. 

“You don’t really believe…,” she trailed off, feeling silly to even say the words out loud.

“In Soulmates?” he supplied quietly. She nodded. “I’ve grown up hearing stories but never thought…” 

She nodded again. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “What do you want it to mean?”

“You said you grew up hearing stories,” she accused. “Let’s, for one moment, pretend all this is real.” Hermione held up a hand. “No, don’t interrupt. I refuse to believe in Fates and Destiny.” She waited for him to motion that he’d stay quiet. 

“So, hypothetically, if this were real… what happens, according to the stories?”

“Hypothetically, if we were Soulmates, our paths would cross until, eventually, we got together.”

“Eventually.”

“Well, yeah. Every story I’ve heard said that Soulmates will find each other even if they, for want of a better word, take detours in other relationships first. Something will happen to bring them together.”

“So, you’re saying we’re inevitable?” Hermione licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. 

His eyes followed the movement and his voice cracked slightly when he answered with a question of his own. “Are we still speaking hypothetically?” 

“It can’t be real,” she insisted, though she sounded unsure. “Divination is just such drivel.” Hermione closed her eyes as if the act alone would make all of it go away. She jumped and drew a sharp breath when he cupped her face in his palm. 

“And yet you followed Potter into battle, which only happened on the back of a prophecy.”

 _That was different,_ she wanted to yell at him but the words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed heavily around them as his hand pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then settled back on her cheek. 

“Let me take you out on a date. Right now. You, me, and coffee.”

She opened her mouth to protest that it was barely half eight in the morning and they had a full day of work ahead of them but he pushed his thumb to her lips. 

“Just an hour. Call it research. Blame it on me. Let’s see where this leads. Where’s your fabled Gryffindor courage?”

* * *

“Luna?” Draco asked, disbelief clear in his voice. “Really? Who are you, and what have you done with my wife? I was sure you’d want Ginny.”

“Oh, but Ginny was already my Maid of Honour. Luna would be perfect for this job. Isn’t that right, Scorp?” Hermione snuggled her week-old son a little closer to her and inhaled his scent. If she could bottle it, she would. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of sniffing her baby’s head.

“What about-”

“No. Draco, you’ve already chosen the godfather and though I’ve had my reservations about Blaise, I didn’t protest. Much,” she added at his pointed look. “Goodness only knows what mischief he’ll put Scorpius through. Luna will be great to balance things out.”

“Luna and balanced in the same sentence?” 

“Don’t be ugly, Draco, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Fine. On one condition.” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“We will buy her outfit for the big day. No strange radishes or the likes.”

She chuckled. “Deal.”


End file.
